I Could Bake A Cake Filled With Rainbows And Smiles
by Red Lips and Black Hearts
Summary: "Jemma," Fitz interrupts, grabbing her by the shoulders and spinning her around to face him, "You're stress-baking." "I am not!" she defends herself, crossing her arms and giving him a cold glare. Jemma Simmons is many things, but a stress-baker is not one of them.


**Another Tumblr prompt! Hope you guys enjoy and maybe leave some feedback? It would mean the world to me :)**

**000**

Jemma rushes around the BUS kitchen, looking at three different recipes at once and preparing the ingredients for each. She woke up this morning with an itch to bake and couldn't choose what she wanted to make, so she decided on all of them.

_A terrible mistake, _she notes as she accidentally adds the chocolate chips to the coffee cake mix.

She contemplates just tossing the tainted batter and starting from scratch, but she decides that it's silly to waste perfectly good food; and besides, maybe a chocolate chip coffee cake won't be so bad.

"Hey, Simmons, have you seen—oh, bloody hell, not again!" Fitz lets out an exasperated sigh as he watches his lab partner give a bowl of brownie mix some major whiplash.

"What are you talking about?" Jemma asks, not looking up from her stirring.

"This," he gestures to the counters littered with flour and egg whites and a little bit of cheesecake batter that she forgot to clean up earlier that morning. "You've been baking _non-stop_ for the past week. And don't get me wrong, it's delicious, but field missions are going to be a little bit difficult if we're all morbidly obese."

"Don't be ridiculous, Fitz," Jemma says dismissively, preheating the oven and placing dollops of cookie dough onto a pan. "It's impossible for you to become overweight in the span of just a few days. To gain even a single pound, one must consume over four times their regular intake of—"

"Jemma," Fitz interrupts, grabbing her by the shoulders and spinning her around to face him, "You're stress-baking."

"I am _not!_" she defends herself, crossing her arms and giving him a cold glare. Jemma Simmons is many things, but a stress-baker is not one of them.

"Yes, you are," Fitz insists. "You always do this. Every time you're nervous about something, you bake like your life depends on it."

"Oh, come on, you know that's not…" she begins, but trails off when Fitz takes her hands in his. No matter how long they're together, she'll always blush when he touches her—whether it's intimately or just gentile and sweet like this.

"Jem, I know you," he says in a low voice. "Now, tell me what's wrong."

She turns away from him. She knows it's silly, but this has been bothering her for days. "Fitz, I…" she starts, but after a moment of thought cuts herself off. She's just being ridiculous, she decides, and worst comes to worst, she'll…

_Shit. _

Worst comes to worst, she'll be _devastated. _

Fitz places his hands on either side of her face and gently turns her head so she's forced to look at him. She's trying desperately to stop the tears from forming in her eyes but he sees right through her—he always does.

"Is it about this weekend?"

She presses her lips together and nods, and he gives her a reassuring smile. "You have nothing to worry about."

"They're going to hate me," she whispers, revealing the fear that's been eating away at her for the past week.

"_Hate you?"_ Fitz repeats as if he's never heard anything more ridiculous in his life. "Jemma, my family _loves _you! More than they do me, I'm sure!"

"Fitz," she laughs at the absurdity of his last statement, but he holds up a hand to cut her off.

"No, I'm serious, Jem. They remind me every bloody day that I don't deserve you. Why on _Earth _would you think…" he trails off, looking down at the small diamond that has been stationed on her left ring finger for the past two months. He lets out a quiet "Oh."

"It's different now," she confirms his suspicion.

"That is very true," he admits, "But if you think that means they're going to love you any less, then Jemma Simmons, you are the _craziest _person I have ever met."

And she's just about to make a snide comment about how she'd have to be pretty damn crazy to agree to marry him, but he's pulling her in for a kiss and all of her previous worries are melting away and she smiles against his lips because _seriously, _what did she do to earn such a wonderful man.

"Besides," Fitz says with a wide grin after they break apart, "Even if they _do_ hate you after we make the announcement, I'm sure you can worm your way back into their good graces with all this," he gestures to the counter covered with baked goods.

Jemma laughs and shakes her head. She has no idea why she got so scared, but that's not an issue anymore. She was overreacting, plain and simple, and when she was at her worst, Fitz was there to reassure her like he always has and always will.

"Hey," Fitz says, and Jemma turns to see him giving her _that look_ that reminds her that she is one of the most wonderful things in his life, the one that gives her a warm feeling in her stomach every damn time. "I love you."

She smiles, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. "I know."

Even if worst _did_ come to worst, even if Fitz's family _did _change their opinions of her due to their engagement, she'd still have him at the end of the day and that's all that matters.


End file.
